


Tell me goodbye (Those hands that embraced me)

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Very angst, what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Kim Junmyeon loves Wu Yifan and that is all.'</p><p>In which Junmyeon meets Yifan for the first time in nearly two years.</p><p>(first time writing for my very important kpop OTP)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell me goodbye (Those hands that embraced me)

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'Tell Me Goodbye' by Big Bang. This is my first attempt at non-hetero smut so please be kind.

Junmyeon isn’t actually sure what he is doing. If the managers ever got wind of his little detour, hell, even if the other members got to know of his little expedition, they would never forgive him, or let him hear the end of it. It is just he heard he is in Toronto shooting for a Hollywood film (everyone in the group, him included, are still awed at that tad bit of news) and EXO is in Toronto for their first North American tour. And yeah, old habits die hard. Old habits that are six feet one inch tall.  
He was shooting in Toronto. In a movie with Vin Diesel. With Vin Diesel. A small sardonic smile pulls his lips up. It was a good thing he left then, right? The smile disappears when his tiny voice of reason reminds him how stupid he is being right now. Okay fine he had a friend following Wu Yifan on Weibo. And she told him about the Chinese man’s whereabouts in a hushed, excited voice. Needless to say, Kim Junmyeon slipped out like the snake he is (not) and hailed a cab and gave him the address of the basketball club where Yifan was practicing for some all-star game whatever.  
The cab stops in front of a building and Junmyeon is halted from his musings. He gets down and pays the fare. When the cab leaves him alone and he faces the imposing glass-fronted building, trepidation and anxiety roundhouse kicks him in the face.  
What is he doing here?  
What does he hope to achieve?  
Is he insane?  
He cannot answer the first couple of questions, but he knows a definite answer for the third one—he is insane.   
He blinks up at the lights twinkling on the three floors. He sees no people beside a security checkpoint of sorts. He swallows the jitters, what was he going to say when they asked him what he was doing here? Hi, I am here to meet my ex who I pseudo-stalk on social media so I can get to know how he is doing. Maybe there is a court inside. Maybe he is there. Maybe he isn’t…oh God he didn’t anticipate that, did he? He rubs his face and tries taking deep breaths. This is stupid. So incredibly stupid.  
He looks around himself and spots a bench on the opposite street. Okay, he will go sit there, and wait for exactly an hour. If Yifan isn’t here then fine, he will leave and tell his members that he went for a walk (maybe buying pastries for them will bribe them enough to not ask pesky questions). If Yifan is here…then what exactly? He flops down on the bench and the chill makes him hiss. He stares down at his boots and thinks again. It’s been nearly two years. Nearly two fucking years of coping alone with heartbreak.

_“Yifan?” Junmyeon asks the older leader. They were back in Korea after a fanmeet in China. And something has been bothering the EXO-K leader for a while, “Are you okay?”_   
_The older doesn’t make eye contact. His brown fringe hiding his eyes completely. Junmyeon frowns. He knows something isn’t right. He has been feeling the tension in his lover for days. They were alone in the dorm. Yifan on the floor playing with his phone and Junmyeon on the couch trying to read his manga. He puts down his book and slides down the couch. He sits down and presses his shoulder lightly against Yifan who finally puts down his phone. Junmyeon bites his lips, “Did I…did I do something? I mean I know I keep doing silly stuff but I am hardwired this way and I am learning self-control—”_   
_Junmyeon is interrupted by Yifan chuckling. He shuts up and scowls. Yifan looks at him finally and smiles, “No Myeonie, you didn’t do anything.” He sounds tired._   
_“Then what is it? Please Yifan, tell me. I want to help!”_   
_The smile that was amused suddenly becomes very sad. Junmyeon’s heart skips a beat. A sensation of fear lightly scratches his skin._   
_Yifan raises his hand and smooths down a stray blonde lock on Junmyeon’s head. He cups his face and says, “It’s nothing Myeonie. Nothing you can help me with.”_   
_Junmyeon opens his mouth to protest but is deftly quieted by lips soft and familiar._

Junmyeon sudden trip down memory lane makes his heart ache all of a sudden. He is surprised by it. He thought he had learned how not to let memories ache him like that. But five years shared in love with someone usually has too many memories and sometimes those fuckers like sneaking up on him like that.  
Just like any other day, he finds himself asking if he still loves him. Then a collage of gummy smiles and uncoordinated limbs and too big hands, very warm hands floats up to the surface and he feels lost again. Loving someone in memory and loving someone when they are right in front of you are two very different things. He prides himself in understanding that. But his feelings are untameable beasts which prey on his thoughts at times and he ends up crying nights when he is sure Sehun is fast asleep.  
Stupid heart and stupid aches. And stupid Chinese men with gummy smiles.  
He sighs. He shouldn’t be here. He should leave. He isn’t sure how he feels right now. He stands up and crosses the street again. It is a one-way street so he stands where he was left off from the cab and waits for a cab.   
Suddenly he hears a very familiar voice. His skin prickles and his heart races. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Slightly nasal when talking in Mandarin, deeper when talking in Korean and an odd mixture of both when talking in English. It always mystified him how can one person can have separate voices for separate languages. Right now it is that odd mixture.  
He wants to look behind him. But he is afraid. A little peak won’t harm him right? He won’t engage any further. He knows his brave effort will be rendered futile but right now he thinks peak-and-run is the best option. So he unwraps the scarf that was loosely hanging around his neck and then rewraps it tightly around the lower half of his face. He is hoping that this and the foggy twilight will mask his identity well.  
He takes a deep breath and whips his head around. He stops breathing.   
Yifan is still tall and imposing. He has a knitted beanie on his head and he is wearing only a hoodie (curse his Canadian ways because Junmyeon is currently wearing four layers). And what stops his breath is the once-familiar-forever-favourite gummy smile.   
He is smiling and talking animatedly with a short man. So far so good, he is too busy to notice the short Asian man covered in a yellow scarf gaping at him not-so-discreetly a few feet away.  
But then the duo start walking towards Junmyeon. Even though he wishes he could stop time so he can have his fill looking at Yifan, he knows it is his time to scram. He did not have his fill but he is okay. He can see Yifan is healthy and happy and he finally knows he has no resentment towards him anymore.   
He decides to walk further down the street until he reaches a main road or an intersection. As he walks he wonders if he should have contacted him. For the last one and a half year, when it was too late and he was left alone with his thoughts, he had cooked up a few scenarios of reunion with the man who had (had?) his heart. He had imagined many things—punching him first and then politely asking him to push him against a wall and make out with him.   
But now he was so close yet so far. Also, what exactly was he going to say to Yifan? “I still love you against my better judgement”? “I wish you were back”? No, he tells himself, maybe he is not ready to face Yifan yet. Maybe he will get a chance again.  
“Junmyeon!”  
He stops and dread fills his entire being as he hears his name being called somewhere behind him. No way. Maybe he is hallucinating. He shakes his head and resumes walking. He is imagining things. Yep.   
“Myeonie!”  
What the fuck? Before his brain could catch up he turns his head. Fuck fuck fuck.  
Yifan halts, his eyes widening. Junmyeon mirroring his face. Yifan stands at a considerable distance. Maybe if…yeah he should stick to his plan.  
So Junmyeon turns back around and starts power walking away from Yifan. His feet take him wherever. He doesn’t know where he is. He spies a lane and swiftly ducks in it. He desperately wishes but he can hear footsteps trying to catch up with him. He can see his impending doom because he is short and Yifan is a giant and it is only a matter of mere seconds. He knew this was a stupid idea!  
He squeezes his eyes shut as the footsteps finally catch up to him. He wishes he could teleport. He wishes lightning would strike him right now. He wishes sudden memory loss on Wu Yifan. But what he gets is fingers grabbing his elbow to break his movement.  
“Myeonie,” Yifan says roughly. He grips harder, Junmyeon refuses to turn around so Yifan does it for him. Junmyeon still has his eyes squeezed shut. He is currently hyperventilating into the wool around his mouth.  
“Myeonie, it is you,” Yifan chuckles, his Korean sounding a little rusty, “Look at me, please.”  
Junmyeon paces himself and prepares himself. This is the closest he will be with Yifan after May 2014. He opens his eyes to see the zipper of his plain back hoodie. Well he is content. He can look at the zipper all day.  
“Myeonie, look at me, please.”  
Oh fuck, here we go. Junmyeon tilts his head up and his stomach feels funny.   
Yifan smiles softly at him. His cheeks are much fuller than before and flushed. His eyebrows are still scary. And he has this look in his eyes. Like he is happy and confused and not quite sure what to do with his face. So Junmyeon decides to help, “Hey,” he says weakly, his voice only an octave higher than the sound of a leaf falling to the ground. Wow, smooth Junmyeon, very smooth. That is what you do when your former boyfriend leaves without much explanation, a little note, and you see him after two years while your stomach is doing funny gymnastics—you say “hey” as weakly as possible.  
Maybe Yifan is equally smooth, “Hey.” And he does the half-smile thing. Junmyeon blinks, what next? He got himself this far, thought about all the things he would say, all the things he would do but now he is blissfully blank. Yifan continues, “What are you doing here?”  
Junmyeon unwraps his scarf and loosely clutches it in his hand. “Uh, concert,” he says in that voice again. He was always soft-spoken but this is ridiculous—how his voice decided to drop with his heart to his knees.  
“Wow. EXO in Canada, huh,” he sounds mildly impressed and amazed.  
“Uh, you?” Junmyeon mentally slaps himself.  
“I was shooting with—”  
“Vin Diesel, yeah.” Junmyeon would really like to bite off his tongue. Sure let your former boyfriend know that you are using your friend to stalk him. Yifan’s eyes are twinkling. Junmyeon says, now in a louder voice, “It was all over allkpop, that English kpop site.”  
“Oh, yeah I remember allkpop.”  
“I also know you are bald underneath that cap,” Junmyeon grins weakly pointing a finger at Yifan’s head.   
Yifan chuckles. He pulls his cap off his head, “Well not completely bald, I have my hair growing back. See?”  
Junmyeon looks at his bald-ish head. Seriously was Yifan’s head always this tiny compared to his body…wow hair is a whole lot important than he thought. But Junmyeon sadly concludes, the fuzzy new hair growing and the overall roundness of the head makes him cute. Not the blonde handsome or the brunette sexy or the long black hair gorgeous he was during their days in Korea. He looks cute. Cute and Wu Yifan could be fit in the same sentence regarding external appearances was something Kim Junmyeon never thought would happen. So before he can filter the words leaving his mouth, he says, “You look cute.”  
Oh fuck. The half-smile turns into the gummy smile, and Junmyeon is sure his heart has left his knees and crawled across the street. To see his favourite smile up close after so long blinds him and he cannot help but smile back. Yifan says, “I thought you would say something scathing. Like I look like a Buddhist monk or something.”  
“That is something that Jongdae would say,” Junmyeon chuckles. Yes, Jongdae would say that.  
“Do-do you wanna sit somewhere and, uh…” Yifan scratches his neck and looks sheepish. He looks down at his shoe and bites his lips.  
“Talk?” Junmyeon heart crawls back in his chest and beats faster. Yifan nods. “Okay.”  
“I know a place close by.”  
Junmyeon nods.

 

They walked a little further, Yifan carefully navigating lanes till they reached a small, cosy café with its signboard and menu written in French.   
All the while Yifan walked in the front with Junmyeon following him, staring at Yifan’s back. He was remembering all those times he would drape himself on that back in exhaustion after long dance practices, or the times he would wake up in the morning earlier than Yifan and count the freckles on his back if Junmyeon was the big spoon and the taller man was the small spoon, or all the times he gave Yifan back hugs. Junmyeon loved the solid reassurance his broad back gave. He gulps down the knot forming in his throat. Not now, not here.  
Now they sit across each other a small round table. Junmyeon looks around taking in the quaint ambience and thinking it is such a cute place for a date. Except this is not a date, a sort-of reunion if you may. Oh the irony of his predicament.  
“Yifan, I don’t read French,” Junmyeon laughs when his eyes fall on the menu. Okay he recognises the coffee names but the rest is Hebrew to him.  
Yifan laughs, “I don’t much either. But I can order for us both…if you would allow me to.”  
Something hits Junmyeon when he realises Yifan is asking for his permission. His eyes are widened and he slowly blinks. He only gives a small smile when Junmyeon nods a little.  
Yifan uses his big hands to wave a waitress over, who instantly gets googly eyed when she looks at him (he had his cap back on, so the ‘cute Yifan’ had returned). Junmyeon gets flash flooded by jealousy but quickly catches himself. He no longer has to feel jealous. He got no right. All the waitresses in the world can give Yifan googly eyes as much they want. Yifan tells the order in French, then the girl (‘Adriana’ the nametag reads) says something in French, he smiles and shakes his head, Adriana leaves their table even more smiley. Junmyeon narrows his eyes and looks down at the table and reminds himself that Adriana isn’t a concern. He shouldn’t be concerned. Yifan doesn’t require his concern.  
“The only French I remembered was what I learned in school. She actually complimented me,” Yifan laughs.  
Junmyeon chuckles, “You were coherent enough I suppose. What did you get us?”  
“Hot chocolates for both of us. You looked cold. You liked, uh, used to like drinking hot chocolate when you were cold.” The sheepish look returned.   
Junmyeon gulps again. Holy shit. Wu Yifan remembered the time they were in London and Junmyeon whined and whined because why was London cold and wet and Junmyeon was basically a cold-blooded reptile (even if Yifan was the “dragon”) and Yifan had got him hot chocolate and effectively shut him up. So after that, every time Junmyeon said he was cold, Yifan would get him hot chocolate to stop his whining. It always worked.  
“I still like hot chocolate!” Junmyeon nearly shouts. Yifan looks at him straight and a light blush spreads across his cheeks. Junmyeon feels heat pool on his face too and gets this urge to crawl under the table, then curl up and die.  
Yifan looks down and picks at lint on his sleeve. He asks, “So, uh, how are you?”  
The embarrassment leaves to be replaced by frustration. Junmyeon clenches his fists under the table. He leans back and replies in a tight voice, “Overworked and busy.” He thinks he evaded that like a pro.  
“Being busy is good.” Yifan nods his head as if he got Junmyeon’s fail attempts at evasion. “How are the others?”  
“Yixing’s hurt, Minseok-hyung’s hurt too, Jongin is an insomniac currently, Kyungsoo’s simultaneously furious at him and worried for him, Jongdae, Baekhyun and Chanyeol are still obnoxiously loud and Sehun is as always a little piece of shit,” he chuckled at the last part.   
Yifan laughs, “Sehun looks much taller now,” Junmyeon raises his eyebrows, “Oh come on, EXO is everywhere, I saw the new music videos. I heard about Yixing from Luhan though. What about Minseok?”  
“He hurt himself at the ISAC. Reckless as usual,” Junmyeon drums his fingers on the table.  
“How are they going to perform in this concert then?” Yifan knits his brows. His dormant resentment for his former company and its treatment of hurt idols rises to the surface.  
“Hyung has some modified choreo,” Junmyeon lazily draws a circle on the table with his index finger, “Yixing isn’t here.”  
“Here?” Yifan asks, confused.  
“With us. Management stopped him. Told him to finish his schedule in China first.” Yifan scowls down at the table. Junmyeon looks at him closely. He can hazard the things Yifan must be thinking right now. Junmyeon scrambles up and places his elbows on the tables, leaning closer, “It’s, it’s not your fault Yifan! You know how fucked up the management is!” His hands nearly reach out to touch him, but he stops himself in the nick of time. Adriana is back with their order.  
She places the cups and maybe was about to say something to Yifan again but scurries away because Yifan has his scary face on—the one that was responsible for so many fans swooning because they thought he was a “bad boy” (haha as if, Junmyeon laughed hard at that, he knew the “’dragon” was essentially a giant puppy).  
When the waitress leaves, Junmyeon’s finger find purchase on the warm ceramic. Ceramic better than skin. The drink looks very nice and thick. He dips a finger in carefully. He pulls it out and even though it burns, he puts it in his mouth. The flavour surprises him. Smooth, rich and dark. He can actually taste the price of the chocolate used in it.  
“Good?” Yifan finally cracks a smile at his antics. Junmyeon very dreamily nods his head. He can drown in this mug of hot chocolate and die happy. Yifan starts laughing. Junmyeon shoots him a glare. Yifan says, his laughter fading slowly, “You look so cute right now!”  
The heat returns to his face. Junmyeon mutters, “Shut up.”  
“And how is it not my fault?” Yifan asks when the laughter dies down.  
“SM is amazingly racist, so relax. Also Yixing knows your departure helped him as now SM will do anything to keep him.”  
Yifan sighs. He rubs his face. He continues what Junmyeon left unsaid, “Because he is the sole Chinese member left and SM rather not lose its huge market in China.”  
“Exactly,” Junmyeon blows on his drink and takes a sip. His eyes widen as he takes another sip, “What the fuck? Did they make a deal with Satan for this recipe?”  
Yifan laughs loudly. His entire body shakes. Junmyeon had not seen him like that for a while now. He smiles a little, a teeny bit pleased with himself for making him laugh. Yifan stops and looks at Junmyeon, something akin to adoration gleaming in his eyes (Junmyeon’s stomach starts doing yoga), “I missed you.”  
The smiles drop from both of their faces. The fact that they were skirting around the topic of talking about each other becomes painfully obvious when Yifan looks at him, trying to gauge his feelings. He extends a hand towards Junmyeon in reflex. He murmurs, “Myeonie—”  
“I—need to go,” Junmyeon stands up quickly and with enough force to nearly topple the chair. He doesn’t look back as he jogs out of the café. Fuck, he couldn’t even finish that hot chocolate from heaven.  
He is out the door and walking straight ahead, vaguely accepting that he, again, doesn’t know where he is. He just hopes he finds the main road or something. He hears his name being called somewhere behind him. Oh hell no. He can’t face him, or his own feelings. He thought they could be normal and talk. He knew they were dancing around in circles as soon as they stepped inside the café. He avoided Yifan’s query about him. He knew Yifan got the cue that he didn’t want to talk about himself. But then he had to say something stupid like “I missed you” to break his resolve. Stupid Wu Yifan.  
He clenches his fists and walks faster. He is so confused right now. One part wants to run and run till he reaches the hotel. The other part wants to curl against Yifan and cry into his chest and then wants Yifan to kiss his sadness away. And the worst part was he could totally opt for the latter. But he knows he isn’t strong enough for the consequences.  
But long fingers grip him very hard this time and spins him around. Junmyeon was still moving when Yifan catches up to him so due to inertia, he crashes into his chest. Yifan gasps a tiny “Uff” and wraps his long hands around Junmyeon. “Junmyeon!”  
Junmyeon struggles. But size matters and the giant had successfully trapped him. He knows that maybe with effort he can push Yifan away but he is exhausted—mentally and emotionally. For the last two years, he wanted nothing but to hold Yifan in his arms again. And now that it was happening, all the fight suddenly leaves his body.  
“Junmyeon,” Yifan relinquishes his iron-hold a little so Junmyeon can push back a little to tilt his head back. With tremendous effort he manages to look back and hold his gaze with Yifan. Yifan unwraps one arm and with his free hand, he places it on his cheek. He whispers, “I am so sorry.”  
Junmyeon was wrong. The fight returns, fuck exhaustion. He hits Yifan with a clenched fist on the taller man’s chest, “Sorry? Sorry! That is the best you come up with after all this time? But then again I am talking to the same dickhead who leaves a five sentence note to explain everything and BREAK UP WITH ME!” His voice rises, and his resolve cracks. He can feel the tears prickling behind his eyes, “WHY YIFAN? WHY COULDN’T YOU TALK TO ME? WHY COULDN’T YOU TELL ME YOUR FEELINGS! DO YOU THINK I WAS THAT SELFISH TO STOP YOU? IF YOU WERE IN PAIN, I WOULD HAVE LET YOU GO! I WOULD NEV—”  
Junmyeon is stopped by Yifan who presses his lips hard down on Junmyeon’s. It isn’t a kiss as Yifan immediately pulls back. Junmyeon blinks and breathes heavily, “What the fuck?”  
“I had to shut you up. Sorry. Come with me,” Yifan grabs his wrist and pulls him.  
Junmyeon is still in shock when Yifan drags him along. They twist and turn a few times till they reach an intersection. Yifan hails down a cab and pushes Junmyeon in first. Before Junmyeon can catch up to his surroundings, Yifan sits down beside him and shuts the door. He gives an address and the car starts.  
Finally, Junmyeon asks, “Where are we going?”  
“To my place,” Yifan mutters.  
“You have a house here too?” Junmyeon asks, all perplexed.  
“No but my friend does and I didn’t feel like staying in a hotel. He is in New York right now, so you could say I am housesitting as well.”  
“Oh.” Junmyeon makes himself as tiny as he can in the seat and tries not to hyperventilate.   
“Myeonie, I owe you an explanation.”  
“Ok.” Junmyeon bites down on his lips. Those tears threaten to spill again. He thought he was ready for an explanation but right now, he isn’t so sure. Can he handle whatever Yifan is going to say? Will it heal his wounds? Will it…make him stop hating himself for still loving Yifan?

 

Yifan’s friend must be doing very well for himself, Junmyeon wonders as Yifan unlocks the door to the spacious studio loft apartment. Junmyeon cannot contain the gasp when Yifan shifts to let him in while switching on the lights and he sees the stain-glassed window in front of him. It had an open floor plan with a loft running across one side. The window took up an entire wall. But the art on it was religious. Junmyeon points at it and asks, “What?”  
Yifan snorts, “The building used to be a church.”  
“Oh. It is very beautiful. This is a very nice apartment,” Junmyeon right now salutes his composure. If anyone looked at him conversing all normal with his ex about churches-turned-to-apartments and stain-glass windows, they wouldn’t even be able to see how slowly he was crumbling apart inside.  
“I thought,” Yifan says as he takes off his hoodie and cap, “You weren’t going to talk to me at all.”  
The cab ride was painfully silent. Junmyeon doesn’t blame him. He sighs, “The atheist me overrode the used-to-be-Yifan’s-boyfriend me for a moment.”  
Junmyeon doesn’t need to turn his head to know that Yifan’s eyes are right now on him. He saunters in further and sinks down on a couch. He takes off his jacket, scarf and another jacket. The apartment was getting warmer. Yifan must have switched on the heat without him realising. He unlaces his boot and folds his legs. He finally turns to look at Yifan whose eyebrows are furrowed and he is biting his lips again. He pats the seat beside him and says, his voice shaking a little now, “I thought you said you owe me an explanation.”  
Yifan puts his hands on his hips and says in a heavy voice, “I don’t know where to start…”  
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Junmyeon drily laughs, “You had a year’s worth of time to think up something.”  
Yifan gets closer and chooses to sit on the coffee table. Junmyeon cannot hold his gaze for too long, so he trains his gaze downwards. He mentally compliments Yifan’s friend’s taste in choosing carpets because the colour is beautiful. The colour reminds him of melted butter. He is fighting back tears while he contemplates what colour the carpet is. Amazing how his brain works.  
“Myeonie—”  
“Don’t,” Junmyeon is ashamed at how broken he sounds, “Don’t call me that. You used to call me Myeonie with love. But all I hear behind “’Myeonie” now is your pity,” a single tear rolls down without his permission, “I don’t need your pity. I got enough pity from people. And then some more… “Oh look I told you a group cannot survive without two leaders, Suho must have forced Kris to leave or something” I heard them say. “Hyung it’s okay, it’s not the end of the world” the dongsaengs said. “Joonie you will find someone better, focus on your career now” my brother said,” he aggressively rubs his eyes, no way was he going to cry.  
“He is an asshole and selfish” others would say,” another tear rolls down, “I wanted to tell them that you were neither an asshole nor selfish. But what was I going to say? You left me a note! A fucking note! “Sorry my love. I am doing this for your own sake. You will understand. And someday you might forgive me. I am so sorry”—that was all you left me with Yifan! I wanted to defend you! It was hell! We still had to do promotions, and then the concert, and fans, and the media. I was wearing the Suho mask for so long I forgot who Junmyeon was!” He is crying now, not even trying to stop the tears. He doesn’t understand where he is getting all his words from now. He briefly thinks about the days after Yifan’s departure.  
 _Two days later after Yifan’s departure finds Junmyeon curled up in his bed, dried tears on his face as he clutches a note in his hand. The news of the lawsuit had reached them last night. Everyone had reacted very emotionally. Baekhyun had wailed while the managers took away their phones. Chanyeol still sneaked in a stylist noona’s phone and tried calling his best friend a million times. Kai and Sehun had huddled up in a corner shouting their needs for clarification. Kyungsoo’s knuckles went white as he gripped the table too hard and blinked as the news that their favourite duizhang had left sunk in. The EXO-M members had flown in early this morning. Tao was crying uncontrollably, not really understanding the situation. Luhan was pale-faced and muttering “Why didn’t he tell us?” over and over again under his breath. Yixing stayed silent as he rubbed Luhan’s back. Jongdae tries comforting Baekhyun but couldn’t stop the tears himself because he was sharing the room with their leader this time and he felt so lost when he woke up to find the bed empty. Minseok looked down at his shoes and when Chanyeol was slowly coaxed by the noona to return her phone, he finally burst out saying, “This was a ticking time bomb! The last year when they benched him and send him off to Canada for a “break”,” Minseok’s finger angrily jabbing the air with quotation marks, “We knew Yifan came back a changed man.”_  
 _Yixing looks up and scowls, “He was so sick that one time…”_  
 _“Exactly,” Minseok sighing when he realises at least someone in the group still has a level head._  
 _“Wait,” Tao wipes the snot under his nose and says, “Where is Junmyeon-hyung?”_  
 _In the chaos that surrounded them, all ten of them have completely forgotten about the person who would have been hit the hardest by Yifan’s sudden departure._  
 _Junmyeon had quietly slipped out when Tao’s floodgates burst. He remembered the note. He entered his room, locked it and opened the envelope. He read the contents and then curled up on his bed and cried. He cried through the words that Minseok said. He cries harder when the words that Yixing says seep through the walls. He cried throughout Tao’s concern for him. He was glad no one came knocking on his door._  
 _Finally, when it was near dinnertime, Junmyeon emerges from his room. Everyone had a cup of ramen in their hands and all of them put it down when he entered the living room. Luhan gasps at his appearance. Junmyeon puts up a hand, “It’s okay. Minseok’s right. He had changed. We all felt it. Maybe me more than you guys, but it was there. None of us have the right to hold him back.”_  
 _“But,” Yixing says very softly, “What about your rights?”_  
 _“I am nobody special—”_  
 _“What are you talking about hyung?” Sehun shouts._  
 _Jongin puts a hand on Sehun’s shoulder to calm him down, “Did you know hyung?”_  
 _Junmyeon shakes his head and clenches his fist. Jongin notices that and sees a ball of paper scrunched in his fist. He pokes Kyungsoo and gestures towards it. Kyungsoo sees it and he says, “He left you a note, didn’t he?”_  
 _Junmyeon smiles sadly as he says, “Here, read it if you want. He doesn’t explain much. He wants me to understand,” he extends the scrunched up note, no one takes it. He sighs as he feels the Suho, Guardian of EXO, mask slip on, “Let’s not dwell on this too long. We still have a lot to do. I don’t think the company will let us rest. They would want to keep us working to keep the people distracted. Hell, they might even throw in a few scandals to throw fans off!” his laughter sounds lifeless to him, “So bear with it, it is for the greater good,” as he parrots Yifan’s last words to him, his mouth feels dry and his eyes prickle. He blinks once, twice and gets a grip on himself. He lowers his voice to a strained whisper as Junmyeon tries peeking out of his Suho mask, “He knows what he is doing. I am sure of that.”_  
 _No one saw Junmyeon starting to wither away after that day as Suho engulfed him whole._

Junmyeon raises his head. Yifan had his head hanging and he is twisting his fingers in his lap. Junmyeon chuckles humourlessly, “It was the end of the world for me. Yifan, I don’t think I have been Junmyeon for a long time. It is all Suho nowadays. Junmyeon just wants to,” his entire body shakes violently as a loud sob escapes. He can’t finish that sentence. Was this what he hoped to achieve? More hurt? “I lied. I have a friend who follows you on Weibo. Since I am afraid to get caught, she keeps an eye on you. We are never told anything about the lawsuits. I keep my toes and fingers crossed that someday I will get the good news—that you finally won and SM cannot bother you anymore.” He clamps a hand over his mouth, “I want you to be happy. And I guess when Lang called me to tell me you are in Toronto, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to see you.”  
His eyes are swimming in tears. Yifan is sort of a blur right now. He can’t stop the word vomit that is happening, “You know what I wanted from you then? A proper goodbye. I didn’t even need an explanation. I knew how you were. You couldn’t get attached to anything. For the five years we were together, you don’t know how much I feared that one day you would just leave, that you would realise I am not worth of an attachment either. But then I thought you could stay, and then you proved all my fears right. And I hated myself for deluding myself for five years. So that is what I wanted from you—the goodbye you owed me, not an explanation.  
“You had always been fiercely independent. I admired that. You could never stand down if someone mistreated you. I respected that. Yifan…why did you not talk about this with me? Did you not think I felt that something was off about you? Do you think I would have stopped you?” his voice softens, “Yifan?”  
Junmyeon reaches for him and places his hand on his knee. Suddenly Yifan slides down the coffee table. He gets on his knees in front of Junmyeon and pulls him to his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He buries his head in the crook of Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon is a little taken aback but then he realises the taller man is shaking. He wraps his hands around his back and concern fills his voice, “Yifan?”  
It is when Junmyeon feels wetness on his neck and Yifan says, his voice shaking, “I am so sorry Myeonie” that he realises Yifan is crying.   
Junmyeon’s heart further breaks into some more pieces. He didn’t expect this reaction from Yifan. He doesn’t know what he was expecting to be honest, but definitely not Yifan falling apart like this in his arms. That is when it hits him. He presses his forehead on Yifan’s shoulder and hugs him tighter. He is tethering on the couch’s edge as he presses himself closer to Yifan. “Oh Yifan,” he whispers, “I am so sorry.”  
Yifan straightens a little, pulling the small man in his embrace even more closer. With his chest flush against the taller man, Junmyeon feels complete and like everything’s okay and the sun is shining again. But it is not okay, Yifan is crying and he is not his one and only anymore and it has been nearly two years since any physical contact.  
“Why,” Yifan sniffs, “Are you sorry?”  
“I don’t know…” Junmyeon mutters.  
Yifan pushes back and looks at Junmyeon. His eyes are glassy and Junmyeon sees the transparent trail of tears on his cheeks. Yifan whispers, “You are selfish.”  
Junmyeon scowls, “What?”  
“Are you the only one hurting right now? I was, and still am, hurting Myeonie. It was not easy taking the decisions I took, or the choices I made. If I could I would have never ever left you! Do you remember what I said the last time?”  
Junmyeon’s eyes widen. He goes back in time…

_The second phase of promotions for ‘Overdose’ was going to start soon. It meant separation of EXO-K and EXO-M again. It meant Junmyeon and Yifan will not be seeing each other for a while. And every time EXO was divided, Junmyeon would sulk for days before and after. The members always teased how clingy he is when the two of them had been together so long, a little separation won’t hurt him much. But Junmyeon still hated being away and so did Yifan, except the older wasn’t that obvious like the leader of EXO-K. He just whined every now and then to Luhan who had become extremely practiced in tuning out Yifan’s Emo Mode (Yixing came up with that)._   
_So the day before EXO-M was going to leave for China, Junmyeon didn’t get too close to Yifan and it surprised everyone. They were used to seeing Junmyeon sticking to Yifan like a koala to a eucalyptus tree. They were used to excessive, diabetes-inducing PDA. They were used to Jongdae or Baekhyun shouting “GET A ROOM!” whenever the two lovebirds got too frisky. But what they felt that day was palpable tension between the two leaders. Finally, Kyungsoo couldn’t take it anymore._   
_Kyungsoo finds Junmyeon alone in the laundry room and corners him with a glare and, “What is wrong with you and Yifan-ge?”_   
_Junmyeon nearly drops the bleach he was carefully measuring. He stutters, “Wh-what? Nothing’s wrong!”_   
_“Oh please,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, “Everyone knows the Krisho ship isn’t sailing.” Junmyeon giggles at the usage of the fan-given ship name for him and Yifan. Kyungsoo loses his patience, “Hyung!”_   
_Junmyeon stops giggling. His face falls as he says, “I don’t know.”_   
_“Then get knowing and fix it hyung. As much we hate you two sullying the living room or kitchen or the laundry room, we are still very worried because this tension between you two affects us all. Just don’t have sex in the laundry room again.”_   
_Junmyeon blushes twenty shades of red, “We, uh, didn’t do anything in here!”_   
_Kyungsoo rolls his eyes again, “Sehun thought someone spilled lotion on the table.”_   
_Junmyeon chokes on air and he can feel steam curling out his ears. He very clearly remembers that episode. They had returned first from a dance practice, Yifan had spilled coffee over his sweatshirt so he had beelined straight for the laundry room. He had taken his top off and Junmyeon had walked in then to ask Yifan what he would like for dinner. The sight of the body that he exclusively got to see made him very eager right then. He had come up from behind and then somehow ended up bent over the table which Minseok bought so they can sort out the whites from the coloured clothes. The fear of getting caught—because both knew the others would come in anytime—added an extra sexy incentive. Kyungsoo shakes his head and pats his hyung’s shoulder. He solemnly says, “Go. I think he went up to the terrace.”_   
_Junmyeon nods his head and nearly runs out of the room. Never again in the laundry room then. He takes the lift to the terrace. And Kyungsoo was right. Yifan stands, his hands resting on the railings, his back hunched slightly. The late afternoon light hitting his back and making his brown hair shine gold. Junmyeon gulps. He can’t explain the weird fear he feels nowadays. Like a premonition threatening to claw at his contentment with life. And Yifan doesn’t help. He can feel the distance he is creating between them. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know if it his fault. He wishes Yifan would open up. They would share everything with each other. So what is so wrong now that Yifan cannot trust him to tell his feelings?_   
_Junmyeon tiptoes and closes in on Yifan. He wraps his arms around Yifan who doesn’t even flinch. Junmyeon pouts, “How come I don’t startle you?”_   
_“I know you too well,” Yifan laughs and covers Junmyeon’s small hands with his large ones. Junmyeon presses his cheek on his back and smiles. He really does like how well Yifan knows him—he knows him inside out and he loves it. But he hates it now how Yifan refuses to communicate his worries to him. Aren’t they in this together?_   
_He hears Yifan sigh deeply, “You know I love you very much right?”_   
_Junmyeon’s heart races. He unwraps his hands and grabs onto Yifan’s elbows and turns him around to face him. The soft, sad look in his eyes scares him. However, at the same time Junmyeon can see the pleading in his eyes. So he nods and whispers, “Yes.”_   
_Yifan cups his face and leans closer, “Do you trust me?”_   
_Junmyeon weakly says, “Yes.” He is getting slightly breathless as the air is getting warmer between them and Yifan is looking at him so intensely._   
_Yifan brings his lips down to his and he moves his mouth against his, hard and hot, stealing his breath away until Junmyeon had no choice but to open to the sudden urgency. One arm encircles his waist, gently hauling him tight against him while with the other hand, Yifan cups the back of his head, making him a prisoner. Not that Junmyeon would ever want to escape. He was surprised by how soft yet urgent this kiss was._   
_Junmyeon murmured something, and Yifan tempers his response, his lips and mouth becoming tender, urging Junmyeon to let him in further. Junmyeon bit and sucked at Yifan’s lower lip, then reached up with his hands and held on to his broad shoulders as everything around them falls away._   
_The tempo changes. Yifan grabs Junmyeon’s hair to pull his head down for better access and delves in with his tongue as if tasting Junmyeon for the first time. Breathing becomes hard but Junmyeon doesn’t want to stop. Yifan feels the same as he pulls away._   
_Their breaths are harsh and intermingle in the tiny space between their lips. Junmyeon risks a look at Yifan. The taller man’s skin is flushed and his eyes are dark with arousal. The hand on Junmyeon’s neck lightly strokes the hair there. He murmurs, “Let’s leave. For tonight. I want you all to myself. And I don’t want any of the idiots downstairs getting in my way. Please?”_   
_Junmyeon just nods._   
_Five hours later finds them in a cab, hands tightly held, wearing masks and sunglasses for fear of recognition. They choose the hotel farthest from their dorm. Junmyeon pays the fare as Yifan grabs a mini duffle and enters the hotel. He jogs to the reception and makes a reservation. Junmyeon waits on the curb. Ten minutes later he gets a text informing about the floor and room number. He enters the hotel pulling his snapback down._   
_Twenty minutes later finds them with breaths heavy and panting as Yifan slowly prepares Junmyeon. He seems to be taking his sweet time, slowly drawing out every moan and mewl out of Junmyeon. Somehow Junmyeon felt that today he shouldn’t beg for anything, he wants it slow like Yifan wants to. Yifan pays attention to every inch of his body as he pushes in another finger. Kissing, biting and leaving red marks all over Junmyeon’s pale skin. Junmyeon repays by plunging blunt nails on Yifan’s smooth back. He knows there will be some serious scratch marks. When Yifan (finally) enters him, his spine arches and he can feel every cell of his body screaming to beg for a faster release, but then he locks his gaze with Yifan and his heart skips a beat. Yifan has his face scrunched up but his eyes were open. He is looking at Junmyeon like he was trying to memorise every single, small, insignificant detail about Junmyeon. A knot lodges in Junmyeon’s throat. He pulls the man down and kisses him hard, trying to convey how much he loves him. Suddenly tears roll down his cheek. The feeling of doom returns, but he squashes it down when Yifan hits him right there and he sees stars behind his eyelids. He comes harder than ever and moans loud enough to be heard across the lobby outside their room. Yifan comes a few heartbeats later and slumps over the smaller man, caging him. Junmyeon just strokes his hair and says nothing. The silence between them is heavy with words unsaid._   
_Yifan pulls out and lies down beside Junmyeon. He nuzzles Junmyeon’s neck and says, “Love me like this. Okay?”_   
_“Yifan…I will love you forever. Will you tell me what is going on?”_   
_“Myeonie,” he raises his head and cups Junmyeon’s face. He looks straight into Junmyeon’s eyes and continues, “If you trust me then please know whatever I do, I need you to trust me. Just know this is for the greater good.”_   
_Junmyeon doesn’t understand. But he can’t find the right words to protest. He simply nods and runs his hand through Yifan’s messy hair. Maybe he will get all this later. When Yifan will be in China, Junmyeon will figure it out and he will send a mock-reprimand text to his dumb Chinese giant._   
_Yifan leans over and kisses his nose. He smiles and asks, “Mine?”_   
_“Yours,” Junmyeon whisper. He doesn’t say the ‘forever’._   
_Next day finds them hurrying to the dorm. Some members snigger, other roll their eyes and others remark lewdly insinuating various obscenities. The couple turns deaf to them as they grab a quick breakfast and Yifan drags his large suitcase to the garage where the vehicle that would take EXO-M to the airport waits. Yifan presses an envelope into Junmyeon’s, leans over and whispers instructions to read it when he is gone. Yifan’s cheesy behaviour has everyone chorusing “Ew” in various tones and pitches. Junmyeon just smiles, his eyes holding back unshed tears. The car leaves and Junmyeon’s dread just increases tenfold. Yifan’s cryptic words haunt him the entire day._

Junmyeon nods, “This is for the greater good—that is what you said.” He puts a finger on Yifan’s cheek and wipes away the tears.  
Yifan grabs Junmyeon’s wrist. Junmyeon splays his hand on his face so that now he cups Yifan’s cheek. Yifan cocks his head sideways to curve into Junmyeon’s touch, “Do you know what I meant?”  
Junmyeon slowly nods his head. He does now. He slowly says, “You didn’t want to bother the others. You didn’t want to burden everyone, especially with our first world tour coming soon. You know you would have held us back.” Yifan slowly nods. “And…if you stayed you would have gotten sicker.” The last words twist his heart. He remembers the day Yifan fainted in their dorm. He remembers the fear he felt that day. If something serious had happened to him…Junmyeon would have been damaged beyond repair. He chokes on his unshed tears as he gasps, “Oh Yifan!” He doesn’t think twice before he crashes his lips against Yifan’s.  
Junmyeon is about to pull back when he feels Yifan’s lips moving in response. He didn’t expect that but now that it was happening, he wasn’t complaining.  
Yifan’s hand comes resting on his neck and he licks Junmyeon’s lip. Junmyeon complies, already very pliant because fuck it has been too long. He grabs the front of Yifan’s shirt and the fabric bunches in his grip. His other hand finds purchase on Yifan’s nape. He tilts his head sideways and rubs his tongue against Yifan’s which leads the taller man to groan a little. Junmyeon feels mighty pleased. But it his turn to make embarrassing sounds when Yifan bites down on his lips. The fight for control over this kiss begins as the fact that these two missed each other way too much became evident.  
It might have been five minutes or it could have been an hour, but breathing was getting hard and Junmyeon feels lightheaded. They pull back at the same time but their arms are still wrapped around each other. Their foreheads are pressed together. Junmyeon scoffs, “I don’t know if I want to keep kissing you or punch you right now.”  
Yifan chuckles, “I like option one more. But if you choose option two, not the face please.” He nuzzles Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon gulps. Gosh if he could stay like this with Yifan a bit longer. But the clock is ticking. He needs to go back. As if hearing his mind, Yifan mutters against his neck, “Stay. Just tonight. Myeonie, please, just tonight. I want to keep holding you little bit longer. Please?”  
Junmyeon’s heart twists and hurts. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to hold and be held by Yifan a little bit longer too. He missed it. His body missed the tall, solid frame that used to hold him. His heart missed the familiarity, comfort and security of it. “Okay,” he whispers against his better judgement.  
Yifan pulls back and the smile he gives Junmyeon is enough for all the guilt and doubt to vanish. Junmyeon rubs Yifan’s head (it is so soft, he coos mentally), affection swelling inside him and overwhelming him so much that he can’t find his voice. He swallows down the sudden onslaught of emotions. He says, “I need to call Kyungsoo then.”  
Yifan nods his head, his eyes twinkling and the smile refusing to leave his face. “Let’s go out for dinner?”  
“More French restaurants?” Junmyeon grimaces. He cannot handle another Adriana giving Yifan googly eyes.  
“Nope!” Yifan shakes his head laughing and stands up. He cups Junmyeon’s face and kisses his forehead. The little affectionate gesture has Junmyeon nearly melting into the carpet. Yifan gives him a last smile before he walks around the couch. Junmyeon hears him climbing the stairs to get to the loft. He lightly rubs his forehead. His fingers then come to rest on his lips and he doesn’t fight the huge grin that breaks out on his face. He can feel how swollen and abused his lips feel.   
As Yifan leaves him alone Junmyeon suddenly remembers that he has to inform people that he isn’t coming back to the hotel tonight. He takes out his phone and dials Kyungsoo, the most rational member right now in EXO.  
“Hyung? Where are you? It’s been more than an hour now,” Kyungsoo says as he picks up the phone after three rings.  
“Uh,” Junmyeon clutches at strings, “I met a relative of mine here. They want me to stay over. So, I, won’t be coming back tonight.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He did have an aunt living in Canada. But she lived Quebec, not Toronto. Fuck specifics.  
The silence on the other end is concerning but Junmyeon sighs in relief when Kyungsoo says, “Okay hyung. I will tell the managers. You enjoy yourself. Bye.”  
The call disconnects but Junmyeon frowns down at his phone. The silence made him uneasy. It is as if Kyungsoo knew he was lying. But Kyungsoo isn’t active on any SNS. Hell, he doesn’t even surf the Internet unlike the other members. No way in hell can he know. The only members who knew about Yifan in a Hollywood movie where the SNS-savvy ones like Chanyeol, Sehun, Baekhyun and him (thanks to second-hand cyber stalking). Maybe they told Kyungsoo.   
Junmyeon shakes his head, he will deal with the shitstorm that will come his way when it does come. For now, he will simply enjoy the borrowed time he has with the man he never really did stop loving. He gets to his feet and walks over to the stained glass window he was admiring. He touches the cool glass and smiles. The work is truly exquisite. He spots a dark bundle out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head to the right to see a bunched up black heap of something carelessly thrown on the stool. He picks it up to realise it is a heavy cable-knit sweater. Must be Yifan’s. He caresses the fabric and his mind travels back in time…

_It had been a month since Yifan left. Sehun wanted to shift to Junmyeon’s room so he had finally gotten around to clean out the closet he had previously shared with Yifan. The space allocated to Yifan was emptied already and Junmyeon hadn’t touched it since he left._   
_He opens the closet door. He is clearing some space from his side when he comes across a faded navy blue t-shirt that he recognises as not his. It’ s Yifan’s. His heart picks up pace and his hands shake a little. He unfolds it and presses his face into it. It smells like detergent and Yifan and it hurts all of a sudden. He whispers into the fabric, “Why?”_   
_Suddenly he hears footsteps outside his room. He quickly stashes the t-shirt back in the closet and rubs his face. The door to his room opens and someone whines, “Hyung, are you done?”_

Junmyeon’s lips twitches a little. He presses his face into the sweater and fights back the tears. This sweater smells like Yifan more and it hurts a little. Somehow, this and the flashback he had reminds him of the impermanence of all that is happening right now. He isn’t thinking when he slips his hands through the sweater and puts his over his head. He grips the hem and pulls it down. He chuckles. He is still three sizes too small but he likes the roominess. He pushes back the sleeves a little or else his fingers would disappear completely.   
“You look cute,” Yifan comments from somewhere behind Junmyeon.  
Junmyeon turns around and smirks. Yifan had changed out of his plain t-shirt and is now wearing a trench-coat over a round neck t-shirt. Junmyeon says nose scrunching up, “Yeah I know I am cute.” Yifan laughs. Junmyeon scowls, “Why are you wearing only two layers?”  
“It is February,” he shrugs his shoulders, “It isn’t that cold anymore.”  
Junmyeon’s eyes widen in semi-horror, “What? It isn’t that cold? Damn, Canadians are freaky people.”  
“Haha, shut up,” Yifan narrows his eyes, “I am Chinese.”  
“I need four layers to keep warm while you are flaunting your trench-coat in my face. So you are more Canadian than Chinese right now,” Junmyeon reasons.  
Yifan shakes his head and picks up the yellow scarf that Junmyeon had discarded on the couch. He walks over to Junmyeon and wraps the scarf around his neck. He smirks, “You are a cold-blooded reptile.”  
And you left me alone in the cold, Junmyeon doesn’t say what he thinks. He smiles sadly. Suddenly Yifan tugs the scarf and Junmyeon stumbles. He throws his hands forward to break his fall. He presses his hands, palms flat on Yifan’s chest. Yifan snakes his arms around Junmyeon’s waist and puts his chin on Junmyeon’s head.  
The height difference is ridiculous, Junmyeon thinks. But he is comfortable tucked under Yifan’s chin. His hands clasp behind Yifan’s back and he presses his cheek on Yifan’s firm chest. He says, “I was born in the summer anyway.”  
Junmyeon hears, and feels, the sharp and shaky way Yifan inhales. Junmyeon is about to ask what was that about when Yifan beats him to it, “I am sorry I left before your birthday.”   
Oh. Junmyeon presses himself closer, as if wishing to completely melt and disappear in the taller man’s embrace. For the first time in the seven years that Junmyeon knew Yifan, he had a very quiet twenty-third birthday in 2014. For the first time in the five years that they dated Junmyeon had a very lonely birthday. He wasn’t woken up at midnight with a sleepy smile wishing him happy birthday. He wasn’t given a gift with a shy smile and small voice hoping he would like the gift (he always liked the gift). He whispers into the soft material of the t-shirt, “It is okay. I mean, it happened long ago for me to be mad at you for it still.”  
“I sent you a gift,” Yifan continues as if he didn’t hear what the smaller man in his embrace said, “But it was intercepted by a manager. It was sent back to me with an angry note.”  
Junmyeon’s heart thumps loudly. He unclasps his hands and grabs the back of the coat Yifan is wearing. He clutches the material so hard that his knuckles turn white. He says, “I know. The manager scolded me. Then he informed me that he had returned the parcel. I was mad. He had no right to do so. I think I might have destroyed the kitchen a little.”  
“The kitchen? You touched Kyungsoo’s kitchen?” Junmyeon feels Yifan’s entire body shake in amusement, “And you are still alive to tell the tale?”  
Junmyeon grins, “Well I was drunk as fuck, so maybe I got a leeway.”  
Yifan stops laughing. Junmyeon feels Yifan holding him closer. He says, “I am so, so sorry.”  
Junmyeon forces himself out of the comfortable hold he was in. He looks up and smiles, “I am kind of hungry right now.” He didn’t want Yifan to apologise to him anymore. He knew that all the sorry-s in the world will not change all the things that has happened since. It won’t turn back time, or stop time so that they can be what they were once. Even now, Junmyeon is confused about what they are at this moment.   
Yifan nods and smiles a little as he grabs Junmyeon’s small hands in his freakishly large ones and walks towards the entrance.

 

“That’s a restaurant? It is so tiny!” Yifan shakes his head and rolls his eyes at Junmyeon’s outburst. They were currently standing in front of Smokie’s Poutinerie, a place famous for its poutine (duh).  
From Yifan’s temporary home in downtown Toronto, they have ambled to the Entertainment District. He had planned, eventually, to go to the Chinese/Vietnamese restaurant he had been dependent upon for the last couple of days for sustenance when Junmyeon said, hands flailing, “I get food like that everyday back home! I want to eat Canadian food!” What’s more Canadian than poutine?   
So here they were. Yifan says, “They were on TV. Don’t underestimate them. Now come on, you wanted the Canadian experience!”  
Junmyeon pouts but doesn’t complain any further as Yifan drags him with him. Junmyeon smiles wryly as he looks down at their entwined hands. Yifan hadn’t let go ever since they left the apartment. He finds himself marvelling at how well they fit—Yifan’s large hand in a comfortable grip around his small hands. It always gave Junmyeon butterflies, how complete opposites like them stepped into sync and fell together. Fuck, it manages to give him butterflies after a gap of nearly two years.  
They step inside the little eatery that turns out to be not that little. Junmyeon looks around and gasps at the spaciousness. He also notices the crowd is all made of young people. Yifan glances at Junmyeon looking a bit confused. Yifan explains, “This is a popular place for college students.”  
“Oh.”  
“Grab a seat? I will order for us both?”  
Junmyeon smiles and nods his head. Yifan finally lets go of his hands and Junmyeon already misses it. He finds two empty spaces. He sits down and patiently waits for Yifan who is all smiley as he places an order at the counter. He admires the Chinese man from his seat. A sudden wave of adoration washes him over. If he pretends, he can almost imagine it was like any other date night they used to have.  
Having to share living space with ten other people meant very little time and space for doing couple things. So sometimes when sleep eluded Yifan and Junmyeon, the two lovebirds would escape and head for this tiny hole-in-the-wall mandu place down the alley right to the Ssamziegil building that would still be open at unholy hours. It was quite a distance from their dorm, so they managed to enjoy the entire journey wrapped into each other. The late nights with no crazy fans stalking them or members making unhelpful noises in the background. It was a few hours of freedom. He, and Yifan too, cherished the little freedom they got, away from fans, managers and members. No offence to the members, they were supportive and nice, but they managed to get on Junmyeon’s nerves at times.  
“Earth to Junmyeon?” Yifan grins as he places two trays on the table.   
Junmyeon flashes him a bright smile, “I was thinking about that mandu place in Insadong.” His cheeks are dusted by a light blush. He looks at the portion and gasps, “Yifan? Why did you order the large portion?” even though he really wants to eat the fries heaped in front of him. He listened to the greater evil in him and gave in to his penchant for everything unhealthy from time to time (like French fries and Wu Yifan).  
Yifan smirks, “Welcome to America where small portions do not exist. This is medium.”  
Junmyeon widens his eyes and stares, dumbfounded, at Yifan, “This is sheer insanity!” He jabs at the mound of fries smothered in cheese curds and gravy. He scowls, “Do I eat all of this together?”  
“Yes,” Yifan eats a mouthful and solemnly nods his head.  
Junmyeon follows suit. He chews for a while and closes his eyes, savouring the taste. It is foreign but the crunch of the potatoes and the smoothness of the cheese curds and the savouriness of the gravy is very much welcome, “I can feel myself getting fat but I really don’t care.”  
Yifan laughs, “Yeah, I know right?”  
Junmyeon beams at him. Come to think of it, it isn’t that hard to imagine this as a date. His heart and his mind are so easily fooled sometimes.  
Junmyeon is at the end of his meal and recounting shenanigans while on the North American tour when he realises that Yifan is scowling at something behind him. He is about to turn his head around when Yifan grabs his hand that was resting on the table top. Yifan says, his voice hard, “Two girls are staring and pointing in my direction. I think they recognised me.”  
This is it. This is how Junmyeon is going to get punished for meeting Yifan again. The girls will eventually come over and then they will also recognise Yifan’s companion and then it will be all over the internet. Eternal doom is omnipotent. His members will hate him, his company will throw him out, his family will be disappointed and he will be forever done. And what about Yifan? He can already envision the ‘netizens’ chewing him down. The negativity he will receive would be never-ending. What if this makes SM win the lawsuit? The case had been dragging on since ages, and his stupid stunt today will ruin everything!  
Junmyeon is so lost in his thoughts that he is shocked out of his system when he realises that Yifan had pulled him out of his seat, and pushing him towards a big, life-size poster that is casually resting a few feet from them with Yifan’s hands firmly rested on his shoulders guiding him. His back is pressed against Yifan’s chest. Yifan leans down, his lips brushing Junmyeon’s ear and he says, “The bathroom is that way,” he points in front of him, “Go hide there, I will get you after I handle them.”  
Junmyeon mutely nods. He walks at the direction Yifan pointed and finds the men’s’ restroom easily enough. He proceeds to lock himself in. Then the evil thoughts return.  
He groans and sits down on the toilet. He puts his head in his arm and groans again. He clutches his hair and mutters, “Fuck.” He direly hopes that Yifan’s fans did not recognise him. Yifan must have taken stand behind him, using the height difference to his advantage to cover him (bless his tiny stature!). He bites down on his lips and prays to no one in particular that he gets to win this time. That he gets to be with Yifan a bit longer. Tomorrow will come, he cannot stop it. But that shouldn’t mean he must be deprived of his today.  
He sighs and stands up. He staggers to the sink and looks at his reflection in the mirror. Wow, he looks tired, and sad. Then he remembers he has a concert tomorrow. Another groan escapes his lips. Plus, damn his paleness, the bags under his eyes are even more prominent thanks to his skin tone.   
Suddenly someone’s knocking on the door. Junmyeon halts in his self-criticism. He feels the blood running out of his face. If someone wants to use the restroom now, then he would have to obviously leave and if the girls aren’t gone and they see him then game over and he would be so royally fu—  
“Junmyeon? They are gone,” a muffled baritone is heard through the door.  
Junmyeon sighs in relief and feels his soul returning to his body. He unlocks the door and pokes his head tentatively out, “Are they gone?”  
“Yup. You can come out now, they have left,” Yifan smiles.  
“Phew,” Junmyeon walks out of the restroom, “That was close.”  
Yifan nods his head. There are two cups of some cloudy liquid in his hands. He pushes one in Junmyeon’s hand, who takes it with a questioning stare. Yifan answers, “Lemonade. Had to pretend like I was getting drinks while my friend returns from the restroom.”  
“Okay,” Junmyeon nods his head and takes a sip, “So you Canadians still drink lemonade in the middle of winter?” Refreshing taste but wrong season.  
They are at the entrance now and Yifan rolls his eyes, “It’s nearly spring now. And lemonade doesn’t adhere to seasons.”  
“Says the Canadian wearing only a trench coat. This would do splendidly well with vodka though.”  
“I thought you didn’t like vodka.”  
“So? Do you want to mix soju in this and destroy the sanctity of soju?” Junmyeon scowls.  
“Oh god, sorry, I forget that you are a soju purist,” Yifan chuckles. “By the way, you know those girls came all the way from Alaska for the EXO concert.”  
Junmyeon widens his eyes, “Wow. Isn’t Alaska in the USA? I can already hear them discussing how they came for the EXO concert and got to meet the great Wu Yifan as brownie points.”  
“Very funny,” Yifan pouts, “Oh, they didn’t recognise you at all. So don’t worry, okay?”  
“I cannot help but worry,” Junmyeon murmurs, hoping not to be heard.  
But Yifan hears him. He wraps his long, slender fingers through Junmyeon’s smaller ones and squeezes a little. Junmyeon looks sideways at him as he feels Yifan’s gaze boring a hole into him. Yifan says, “I will never let any harm come to you, or the group.”  
Junmyeon can hear the sincerity in Yifan’s voice and it does things to his heart. Things that shouldn’t be happened. He doesn’t know what to say, he cannot find the right words. “Never let any harm come to you” …what does Yifan mean by “harm” exactly? Hasn’t he harmed Junmyeon enough? No, that is not right. He had hurt him, not harmed him. And suddenly, in the bright lights of the Entertainment District Kim Junmyeon understands Wu Yifan more. He doesn’t risk saying anything, his heart is beating too fast, too loud for semantic coherency. So he resorts to squeeze back the warm hand holding him.   
“Myeonie?” worry laces Yifan’s deep voice.  
Junmyeon finally looks at him and gives him a small smile, “I am okay.” Yifan doesn’t seem convinced but the corner of his lips lift slightly. He tries interjecting as much of enthusiasm as possible as he says, “So what is this place?”

 

They had walked around the Entertainment District while holding holds (Junmyeon tried not to think too much about that). Junmyeon even had ice cream despite much grumbling about the weather again (Yifan had finally flicked him on his forehead). Then they had ducked into another café and Junmyeon probably had the best chocolate cake in the history of his existence of twenty-four years. He nearly planted his face on the table as he slowly chewed the pastry and made satisfied (embarrassing) sounds. Yifan booming laughter was worth the embarrassment though.  
They are back at the apartment. A little awkwardness hangs around them like mist during dawn. Yifan unlocks the door and fumbles with switches again. The lights and heat gets turned on, and Junmyeon is relieved. Canada in February is cold for him, no matter what Yifan says. He conveys as such to Yifan again. Yifan just sighs, “How are you going to perform at the concert then?”  
“I will manage,” Junmyeon scoffs.  
“Yeah sure,” Yifan scratches his neck, “Junmyeon?”  
Oh fuck, here we go, Junmyeon muses. He had been waiting for this. He is pretty sure this apartment only has singular sleeping arrangements. He casually says, pressing down his jitteriness, “Yes?”  
“Go upstairs,” Yifan points to the stairs he had seen earlier running by the wall close to the kitchen, “See if you can find anything to wear.”  
Junmyeon mutely nods and does as he is told. He takes the steps to the loft. And he was right. There is just one king size bed.   
He proceeds to remove his borrowed sweater and search for clothes that will never fit him right. He rummages through the dresser. He glances around the loft a little. He decides he quite likes the open floor plan up here too. There is a skylight, and the floor-to-ceiling book shelf is amazing. He finds himself complimenting Yifan’s friend again.   
He finds basketball shorts and a plain grey t-shirt with a red maple leaf printed on it. He cannot stop the stupid grin on his face as puts it on. He goes over to the full-length mirror beside the dresser and looks at himself. He is swimming in the t-shirt but it is okay. It reminds him of all the times he would wear Yifan’s clothes at the dorms. Yifan used to find it cute.  
Junmyeon facepalms himself. He needs to stop his brain running off without him. He doesn’t need to reminisce so much about the past. He doesn’t know what this night will bring so to think too much about it will only make him restless and sad.   
“Seriously?” he hears Yifan say behind him. He turns around and grins at the expression on Yifan’s face. Yifan is pointing at Junmyeon’s sartorial choice and making his are-you-serious face. “Just how many Canadian jokes will you make?” He is already dressed in sweatpants.  
“Till I run out of them,” Junmyeon grins some more, “Also, you kind of set yourself up for it. This is yours after all.”  
“And I wish I could kill my friend for giving me this,” Yifan rubs his face. Just then a phone starts ringing. It is Yifan’s. He glances briefly at Junmyeon who nods his head as if to say it is okay to attend to the call.  
Yifan gives a small smile and takes the call. Junmyeon hears him talking to someone in English. He sits down on the bed. It doesn’t last long and ends with Yifan laughing. He puts down the phone and Junmyeon asks, “You look happy.”  
“Yeah well,” Yifan says, his cheeks colouring a little, “That was Drake.”  
“Oh my god, yeah, your big basketball game, it is tomorrow right?”  
“Yup,” Yifan says, his eyes gleaming like a child’s as he sits down beside Junmyeon on the bed, “Do you know I might be able to meet Kobe Bryant? I can’t believe I might get to see my childhood hero in flesh!”  
Junmyeon cannot help but smile at the man beside him talking with excessive excited gestures and shining eyes. “I am happy for you,” he says, “You were always so passionate.”  
Yifan cocks his head to the side, “Yeah. Now I got Drake’s number on my phone!”  
Junmyeon laughs, “He is your brethren when it comes to dancing!”  
Yifan narrows his eyes, “I can sense you are about to make a joke again.”  
Junmyeon gasps and clutches his chest, “What? Me? Make jokes? I promise I have no Hotline Bling jokes!”  
“Kim Junmyeon, you impossible man,” Yifan chuckles and pets Junmyeon’s hair.  
Junmyeon stills and smiles up at Yifan. If this was a shoujo manga, there would be hearts shooting out of his eyes. He ducks and places his head on Yifan’s chest and wraps his hands around the taller man. He says softly, “Best of luck for tomorrow. Win the game, or whatever.”  
Yifan still has his hand on Junmyeon’s head. The hand travels down Junmyeon’s neck and comes to rest on his shoulder. The other hand finds purchase on Junmyeon’s elbow. Yifan moves them both so now they are lying down, Yifan on his back and Junmyeon on his side.  
“You have a good concert too,” Yifan says just as softly.  
“Huh, I keep thinking,” Junmyeon gulps, “I keep thinking how life would have been if you had not left. You wouldn’t be doing so much. You would be with us, fretting over a concert instead of maybe, dancing to Hotline Bling with Drake.”  
“Junmyeon, please,” Yifan rolls his eyes and then sighs, the rise and fall of his chest so familiar to Junmyeon, “I cannot figure out if this life is a blessing or a curse.”  
“Both, it is both. We need to give up as much as we take,” Junmyeon reasons as he snuggles closer to Yifan. His soul hurts knowing how much he missed this, holding Yifan and curling against him.   
“I didn’t want to give you up,” Yifan sighs and Junmyeon can hear the regret in his voice.  
“I think I know that now,” Junmyeon whispers. “Then,” he swallows down the doubts plaguing him. He has to ask the next question, he has to be a little selfish and put himself first here, “Why? Couldn’t we have solved it? I know the company worked us to the bone but you, and me, we had been in the system longer than the others. How could you just give up?”  
Yifan chest rises and falls as he sighs deeply, “It wasn’t easy. It is still not easy. I couldn’t just take it anymore. I would look at you, and the others, and try. But I snapped when they wouldn’t even allow me basic human rights. I reasoned that if I stayed, I would just become more miserable, I was already done with idol life Myeonie. I stopped admiring the façade when the truth started to sting. I hated being what they made me. The disillusionment happened so suddenly. I couldn’t even see it coming.”  
“I was miserable. I felt like I deserved an explanation over everyone else,” Junmyeon feels the tears starting to sting again. He gulps down, “I thought to myself if I wasn’t enough to be trusted by you. You could have told me.”  
“And you would have tried your very best to stop me. Then you would have hated yourself.”  
Junmyeon chuckles humourlessly, “For the greater good, huh.”  
“Myeonie…”  
“No!” suddenly Junmyeon detangles himself from the comforting embrace and sits up straight. His entire body shakes trying desperately to suppress the tears. He pushes the heels of his palms into his sockets as if that would help the waterworks his broken heart is waiting to unleash. His voice quivers, “And the worst part is,” his body betrays himself as he starts crying again (he wonders who this cry-baby Kim Junmyeon is), “I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop loving you.” He covers his mouth and his voice comes out all muffled and pained, “You didn’t tell me to wait, or anything… _but I am still waiting_.”  
Junmyeon feels his heart breaking all fucking over again when he feels strong, long arms wrap around him. Yifan moves him so now he is on the taller man’s lap. He can feel Yifan’s chest against his back and Yifan’s head is nestled against his neck. Junmyeon gasps around the sobs, “God, I am so lame. I told myself I would love you forever, and here I am, crying, in your lap, after nearly two years of not seeing you. I don’t believe this. I don’t believe myself.”  
Junmyeon feels lips against the skin on his nape. Yifan murmurs into his skin, “Oh god Myeonie…I am so sorry. I…still love you Myeonie. I should have broken up with you properly, I kept you hanging, didn’t I?”  
The tears recede enough to make Junmyeon scoff, “And that would have helped you think? My heart is set on forever Yifan.” He did hear Yifan’s confession of love and he can feel an inexplicable feeling bloom in his heart. But he wants to simultaneously squash it down. He cannot let anything new grow when he knows he is on borrowed time and this is all temporary. He leans into the embrace, “Don’t say such things, this is all transient. I will leave tomorrow to sing and dance like my whole life is okay, and you will live out your childhood basketball dream.”  
“Oh Myeonie,” Yifan’s body shakes as takes a deep breath, “Do you remember what we planned to do when our idol life would be over?”  
Junmyeon rubs his face. Of course he remembers…

_They were going to debut soon. Yifan and Junmyeon were on the terrace wrapped around each other with a blanket they stole from the EXO dorm. Spring will arrive soon, so the weather was still chilly and Junmyeon loved cuddling with Yifan in such weather because that man had the core temperature of a volcano._   
_“Myeonie?” Yifan asks._   
_“Yes?” Junmyeon says._   
_“We will have to pretend like there is nothing between us in front of others from now on.”_   
_“I know,” Junmyeon shuts his eyes, they have had this conversation before._   
_“I was thinking what would we do after all this was over. I mean there will come a day when our bodies will no longer be able to do what we are doing now and EXO will be a nice memory, a good run, what will we do then? If you and I are still together, that is.”_   
_Junmyeon turns around the hit his boyfriend on his neck, “Of course we will be together. You are not getting rid of me so damn easily Wu Yifan. I plan to keep clinging as long as I can. Or as long as old age happens and arthritis has ruined my bones so I can no longer cling like I used to.” Junmyeon hits Yifan again as he starts laughing, “Anyway what about it?”_   
_“You know gay marriage is legally allowed in Canada?” Yifan asks, his voice airy but the implication heavy._   
_“Is this a marriage proposal?” Junmyeon jokes but he feels nervous all of a sudden._   
_“I am just saying, I am still Canadian by citizenship. When EXO is a distant public memory, we can leave and settle in Vancouver, get married and adopt a few dogs, you know just normal things.”_   
_Junmyeon cannot help grinning, even if his heart picks up a pace and he can see their future and it makes him equal parts scared and happy, “I would like a husky. And a great Pyrenees. And maybe adopt a few kids too. I mean we sort of have enough practice.”_   
_Yifan laughs lightly, his breath fanning over the top of Junmyeon’s head and Junmyeon’s heart swells. His stupid giant sometimes says the most ridiculous (yet amazing) things._

“What about it?” Junmyeon asks, his voice shaking.  
“I often think about it Myeonie,” Yifan confesses in such a low voice that Junmyeon nearly misses it.  
Junmyeon closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t miss the admission. However, the pressure on his heart doesn’t lessen. He feels like he is drowning. He cannot make out his emotions anymore. He can feel Yifan’s gaze, heavy and demanding, on him. Yifan wants a reaction.  
Fine he will give Yifan a reaction. Junmyeon shifts sideways and swings his legs around. Now he is straddling Yifan. Next, his right hand moves on its own accord and the sharp, loud sound of flesh hitting flesh resonates in the room.  
Junmyeon slaps Yifan hard. He doesn’t even feel guilty at the red imprint on Yifan’s cheeks. Yifan has his head turned sideways, blinking rapidly. Junmyeon grabs the collar of his sweatshirt and jerks him hard. Yifan is forced to lock his gaze with Junmyeon. Yifan looks confused and scared while Junmyeon is seething.   
Junmyeon says in a biting tone, “You don’t get to say such things anymore Yifan. Do you know why I just hit you now? I hit you because those are not the things you are supposed to say! You are supposed to say “Junmyeon, it was over. I don’t love you. I don’t need you”. But no! YOU THINK IT IS OKAY TO SAY SUCH THINGS AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED! YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL AGAIN!” he feels hot tears rolling down his cheeks again (what the fuck is wrong with his tear ducts??). He finally breaks. He leans forward and rests his forehead against Yifan’s neck, “You are supposed to push me away. You are supposed to tell me to leave. You were supposed to not recognise me on the streets today. You were supposed to not take me home and walk around showing me the city. You are not supposed to let me stay and slap you and cry in your lap. No, no, no. I am not supposed to be here and you are not supposed to be telling me things that will just break my heart all over.” A mirthless laughter slips out, “Wait, how can something break more than it is already broken? How do broken hearts break all over again?”  
“Oh god Junmyeon,” Yifan rubs Junmyeon’s back, “I can’t do all that. You know I cannot do all that.”  
Junmyeon sighs against Yifan’s skin. Yifan continues, “I hid in my old room at my mother’s place for days. I felt like a coward for running. I hated myself for what I did to you, and the others. I let all Chanyeol’s calls go to voicemail. I changed SIM cards because I was scared that if you called and begged me to come back, I would fucking do it. That is why I chose not to confide in you. I would listen to only you Myeonie, only you.” Yifan’s hand stops rubbing his back and comes to rest on Junmyeon’s neck. He adds a little pressure there, silently asking Junmyeon to look at him.  
Junmyeon straightens up and looks at Yifan’s eyes. He is surprised by the depth of feelings in those dark brown pools. Yifan keeps talking, “Sorry, Myeonie. I can do a lot but don’t tell me to stop loving you or push you away now that you are here.” Yifan smiles and the softness of the smile makes Junmyeon’s heart thump erratically.  
“I hate you,” Junmyeon says weakly as he cups Yifan’s face. He rubs his thumb in circles over the place he slapped Yifan. He murmurs, “I am sorry for that, sort of, well no, not really.”  
Yifan chuckles, “I deserved it. Even though I did tell you to not hit the face. This face is important.”   
“You idiot,” Junmyeon smiles. He is angry, he will always be angry at Yifan. For not telling Junmyeon his problems, for leaving him alone, for making his heart beat in that familiar way again. The list could end there or it could go on for another page. He doesn’t know. He has tonight. He has Yifan near him. He has the small distance between their lips. And he has the proximity to make him lightheaded.   
He knows circumstances dictate that he mustn’t. But, to hell with it. His mind is screaming and he wants to silence it. He whispers, “Yifan…”  
“Junmyeon…” Yifan’s voice is husky and deep, and Junmyeon has had enough.  
It isn’t known who makes the first move but Junmyeon and Yifan meet halfway in a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and Yifan digging his fingers on Junmyeon’s waist. Junmyeon’s fingers leave Yifan’s face to—“Damn it, why don’t you have any hair?” Junmyeon breaks the kiss to complain.  
Yifan loses it. He nearly doubles over in laughter. There are legit tears in his eyes. Junmyeon pouts. Yifan taps his finger on Junmyeon’s lips and says, “Sorry for that then.” He only holds his composure for so long as he finds himself giggling over Junmyeon’s outburst again. “I missed you so much,” he says quietly as he cradles Junmyeon’s face and covers his mouth with his own.  
Junmyeon’s initial protest dies as Yifan coaxes his lips apart and begins exploring with gentle expertise. Warmth invades his veins, firing his nerve-ends until he feels every cell bloom alive and with a faint sigh he simply gives himself up to the magic only Yifan could create.  
The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, and Junmyeon is barely aware of Yifan’s hand caressing his thigh while the other slips under his shirt, large hands splayed over his abdomen. He is unaware of his hands reaching for Yifan, trying to free him of the sweatshirt as he sought warm skin and firm musculature.  
“Are you sure Myeonie?” Yifan breaks away, breathless, to ask.  
Junmyeon’s mind is in a daze as he feels desire and arousal burning thick in his blood. Is he sure? Good question considering his self-imposed celibacy (his own hands do not count) for the last year and a half. He scowls at Yifan and says, “Don’t ask stupid questions. Put that mouth to good use instead, you bald idiot.” He doesn’t wait for a retort or a comeback as he leans in and kisses Yifan.  
To hell with repercussions. Junmyeon wants Yifan right now. If Yifan deserves to be hit, then Junmyeon deserves this. He is a glutton for punishment. He wants the hands that cup his bottom and he wants to feel the plush lips as he bites down on them to prove a point. Heat pulses through his veins, setting his body on fire. The sane, sensible part of him issues a silent warning his emotional heart chose to ignore. He needed this, Yifan, with every breath he took, and he defies rational thought as his hands travels down and down, till he is tracing the outline of Yifan’s arousal through the fabric of his pants.  
Yifan’s low moan has desire skittering across Junmyeon’s lower regions and he groans. Junmyeon breaks the kiss this time as he pants, pointing to Yifan’s shirt, “Off. This. Now.”   
The taller man thankfully obeys and takes his shirt off. Junmyeon doesn’t wait too long as he attacks the collarbones that has haunted him for nights. He places open mouthed kisses along the entire expanse of exposed skin and takes great satisfaction at Yifan’s guttural moan in response. He proceeds to pay attention to the neck and bites down, not-so-gently, on Yifan’s pulse. He sucks on the skin and Yifan gasps out loud. Then he laves over with his tongue to sooth the skin. He nibbles along the jawline. It is Junmyeon’s turn to gasp when Yifan’ hands slip under the waistband and he, harshly, grabs on to the soft flesh of his butt.  
Junmyeon leans back and into Yifan’s touch as he looks over his work on Yifan’s skin. He wryly smiles at the flush covering Yifan’s skin and the hickey on his neck. He also likes the way Yifan’s pupils are dilated and the obvious tent in his pants. He did this to Yifan. Little victories. He whispers, “So, still think I am not sure?” He links his hand at Yifan’s nape and arches in against his arousal as Yifan cups his bottom to hold him there. The friction is delicious but not enough.  
Yifan narrows his eyes, and before Junmyeon can say, or do, anything else, Yifan moves and next Junmyeon is on his back as Yifan looms over him. “Point taken,” Yifan growls and crashes his lips on Junmyeon’s.  
Junmyeon melts. Oh how he missed this, the touch and the heat and the feel and the taste. Yifan licks his lower lip and delves in. Junmyeon moans as Yifan’s mouth seeks his, invading the inner depths, savouring the taste and feel of him, teasing the highly sensitised heat as Yifan moves his thigh against the length of Junmyeon’s arousal until he closes the edge of his teeth over Yifan’s tongue in silent urgency for his possession.   
Yifan breaks the kiss and tries getting his breathing back to normal. He knows what Junmyeon is asking for. Even then, “Myeonie, are you really sure?”  
Junmyeon’s skin is burning, his lungs are fighting for air, and all the blood in his body has gathered in between his legs. So he rolls his eyes and huffs, “Look at me, what do you think?”  
Yifan chuckles, “Gosh aren’t you eager as hell.”  
“Well, excuse me. This is the first time in a long time. Please excuse my eagerness.”  
Yifan’s eyes widen fractionally, “You, you didn’t…I mean…”  
Junmyeon trails his fingers absently in a pattern over Yifan’s heart, suddenly shy and reserved, “No. I couldn’t do that.”  
“So…the last time…” Yifan hesitates, not quiet believing it.  
“Was with you, yes,” Junmyeon completes the sentence as he admits, blushing and refusing to make eye contact.  
“Oh,” Yifan says in a low, deep voice. He leans down and tucks his head at the junction of Junmyeon’s neck and shoulder. Junmyeon can feel hot air hitting his oversensitive skin as Yifan takes a few deep breaths.  
Yifan untucks his head and kisses Junmyeon on his forehead. That small affectionate gesture gets Junmyeon’s heart all twisted and swelling. He rubs the spot where Yifan kissed him as he smiles. Yifan moves sideways, his hands rummaging through the drawers on the bedside table. Junmyeon asks when he notices a small plastic bottle in Yifan’s grip, “Your friend keeps lube at his bedside?”  
“He likes to be prepared for anything,” Yifan shrugs his shoulder.  
“You have such interesting friends.”  
Yifan comes back to hovering over him. He kisses Junmyeon on his nose and raises his hand to swipe the bangs out of Junmyeon’s eyes. The gentleness of the touch has Junmyeon whimpering. He grabs Yifan’s face and leans upward to mesh their lips together. Yifan clutches at the hem of Junmyeon’s t-shirt, the message clear.  
Clothes come off one by one. There is only skin, just skin…warm, fluid muscle and sinew. They revel in the feel of each other, hands roaming over the expanse to learn the curves and dips and undulations that were once familiar but never forgotten, only craved for and missed in the haze of desirous dreams and nights.   
Yifan’s mouth seeks the sensitive curve at the edge of Junmyeon’s neck, then traces a path to his chest, moistens the tender nipple and draws it into his mouth. Yifan hears the breath hitch in Junmyeon’s throat as he tugs hard, and he softens his touch as Junmyeon’s nail presses into his biceps.  
It is too much. It is all too much for Junmyeon. Yifan’s hot mouth on his nipple and his rough, warm hands pressing lower. Junmyeon cannot control the helpless mewls.   
Not content, Yifan trails light kisses to Junmyeon’s waist, lingers at his navel, then with lazy appreciation moves slowly down to settle at the apex of his thighs.  
Junmyeon’s body quivers as Yifan mouths gently along the sensitive hardened length, then seeks the slit, traces it with the tip of his tongue. Junmyeon nearly comes undone. Then Yifan takes the top of Junmyeon’s leaking member in his mouth, only to retreat and graze the sides with his teeth until Junmyeon shatters beneath his touch.  
With one easy movement, Yifan shifts and begins trailing soft kisses down one inner thigh to Junmyeon’s knee and back again, before slowly inching slowly to his chest.  
Junmyeon’s hands, which had been digging into the mattress, moves to clasp Yifan’s hips…and it is Yifan who feels the breath hitch in his throat as Junmyeon encloses his arousal, strokes him, then eases to cup him.  
“Junmyeon,” Yifan warns him gently.  
“Yifan, please,” Junmyeon whimpers as he thumbs along Yifan’s length.   
“Someone’s impatient,” Yifan chuckles.  
“I will kill you,” Junmyeon threatens but sighs when he hears the tell-tale click of a cap opening somewhere over his head.  
It is foreign after so long. So Junmyeon hisses at the burn as Yifan pushes in one lubed finger and shuts his eye. Yifan, with his free hand rubs Junmyeon’s cheek, “Myeonie?”  
“Just,” Junmyeon gasps, telling his muscles to cooperate with him mentally, “Don’t you fucking stop.”  
Yifan kisses Junmyeon to distract him as he pushes in another finger. He works them slow and steady till Junmyeon feels himself relaxing. He moans in relief around Yifan’s lips. Yifan takes that as permission to push a third finger.   
Junmyeon closes his eyes and moans loudly when Yifan’s fingers brush against his prostate. He sees stars and his blood singes in his veins. His nail dig harder in Yifan’s shoulders as his back arches off the mattress.   
“Y-Yifan, please,” Junmyeon begs, opening his eyes to look direct at Yifan as he locks his ankles behind Yifan’s waist.  
Yifan pulls his fingers out of his entrance and looks somewhere over Junmyeon’s head. Junmyeon can guess what Yifan is looking for, so he grabs Yifan’s head and says, voice not shaking one bit even though his entire body is, “No, I want to feel you.”  
Yifan nods and gulps. He covers his cock in some lube and then he enters Junmyeon in a slow, deep slide that draws a muffled curse from Junmyeon.   
Junmyeon is unused to this. But he needs it so bad. He feels Yifan’s finger entwining with his own. A low voice softly says, “Relax Myeonie.”  
“I know you baldie,” Junmyeon bites out. Yifan bites his ear in response.   
Junmyeon calms himself down by breathing slowly and deeply. He relaxes his muscle around his entrance. He says in a strangled whisper, “Move.”  
Yifan re-enters in the same slow, deep slide that draws a soft moan from Junmyeon’s throat as his muscles tighten, gripping Yifan as he urges him to quicken the pace, demanding as Yifan lost himself in deep, powerful thrusts that rocks them both as they soar high…so high.  
At each deep thrust Junmyeon loses a little bit more of his sanity and is reduced to a moaning, quivering mess. Suddenly Yifan grabs the underside of his knees and places them on his shoulder, bending Junmyeon in double. The new angle has Yifan hitting his prostate dead on at each thrust.  
Junmyeon is just a mess of moans and chants of “Yifan”. He had his eyes shut, so he opens them to see Yifan face, eyes shut and mouth open, a fine film of sweat covering it. It is a beautiful sight and he had missed it so much. To be connected to the only man he ever loved again on a carnal, physical, yet somehow transcending to the emotional level, has his heart skipping a few beats. Junmyeon doesn’t register it until the words are out of his mouth, “I love you so damn much.”  
Yifan’s eyes fly open. His expression is a mix between shock and happiness. He presses his lips to Junmyeon’s once and when he comes up, his eyes are shining as he whispers, “I love you Myeonie, I love you so freaking much.”  
Junmyeon simply holds on as Yifan takes him to the edge, suspends him there, then tips him over in a glorious free-fall that leaves them both dragging breath into their lungs. Yifan’s admission was enough as he came untouched over his abdomen. Yifan, too, followed him a little later, his release filling Junmyeon to the brim.  
Sated, and deliciously replete, Junmyeon holds Yifan close, murmuring indistinctly as he rests in his embrace. Yifan goes limp inside him but Junmyeon is unwilling to let him go.  
“Myeonie,” Yifan reasons, “We need to clean up.”  
Junmyeon shakes his head and pouts. Yifan chuckles at his childish reaction but manages to detangle himself from Junmyeon’s hold who promptly whines. Yifan laughs, “I will be back.”  
As Yifan leaves him alone on the bed, Junmyeon lets the entirety of the situation sink in. He is naked on a strange bed and he just made love with Yifan, the man he had been trying to get over for days, months and years. But wow, where is the regret or guilt he thought he would feel? Maybe they will come when the sun rises ushering in a new day, new feelings. He still has tonight. And Yifan should fucking hurry back so he can cuddle that man to his fill.  
Yifan, as if on cue, returns with a warm wet towel. It feels like de ja vu as Yifan cleans the semen off of his abdomen. It is something that he had done to Junmyeon every time after sex when they were together. The care Yifan would put, and is putting right now has emotions rolling and crashing in his heart. Yifan chuckles, “You have abs now, wow. Sexy.”  
“You are bald now. Not that sexy,” Junmyeon jokes even though he blushes at the compliment.  
Yifan lies down beside him. Junmyeon does as what he had planned to do and curls against Yifan. But then…Yifan asks, “What? Where are you going?”  
“It is too cold,” Junmyeon leaves Yifan’s side to grab his clothes.   
Yifan laughs, “Get mine too then?”  
They lazily put their clothes back on and throw the covers over themselves and snuggle in. Junmyeon feels stupidly content. And Yifan’s lazy smile makes him happier.  
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Junmyeon whispers. He bites his tongue next, regretting his choice of words. Great move Junmyeon, that is what you say and spoil the mood.  
Yifan hugs him closer, “I wish it too. I kept wishing for so long. I still can’t believe this.”  
“Neither can I.”  
There is contentment, there is peace and there is shared comfort. Sleep comes anyway and the two lovers sigh into each other, limbs entangled and hearts beating as one.

 

Junmyeon wakes up, his lower back paining a little and the sunlight pouring in from the skylight warming him nicely. He is on his back. He rubs his eyes and yawns. He turns his head sideways. Yifan is on top of the covers, has his head propped on his elbow and he is softly gazing at him. Junmyeon croaks, his throat dry, “What.”  
“You are kind of beautiful,” Yifan yawns.  
Junmyeon sits up straight and laughs, “And you are still cheesy as fuck.” He winces a little in pain. It has been so long since sex that his entire body now complains.  
“Water on the table,” Yifan points as he shifts to sit up as well.  
Junmyeon turns and finds a glass of water and an Aspirin. Colour floods his cheeks. Trust Yifan to know his body inside out. He silently takes the glass and swallows the tablet. He feels fingers rubbing his neck. He turns his head around to look at Yifan again. Yifan has his brow knitted as he asks, “You okay?”  
Junmyeon nods, “Yeah I am okay…say, what time is it?”  
“A little after six.”  
“Oh, I need to leave.”  
As soon as the words are out, the mood shifts. It was light and easy, and now it feels like rain clouds have rolled in and the air is heavy with tension. Yifan leaves the bed and crouches over a stool. Junmyeon cannot see what he is doing but his eyes widen a little when Yifan returns to the bed with Junmyeon’s clothes neatly folded in his arms.  
Yifan mutters, “Yeah, I know. I called you a cab. They said they will be here in twenty.”  
Junmyeon isn’t sure if he wants to cry or laugh at Yifan right now. Look at him trying to protect his feelings…or is he protecting Junmyeon’s?   
Junmyeon wordlessly takes the clothes and walks down to the bathroom to change. He locks the door behind him and looks into the mirror. He cracks half a smile. He looks better. Of course he does. In a few minutes he is dressed and as he is about to exit the bathroom, he spots the black sweater hanging on a hook behind the door. He picks it up and exits the bathroom with it.  
He heads to the kitchen, sweater in hand. Yifan is already there and he looks down at the sweater in his hand. Yifan says, “You can keep it, if you want to.”  
Junmyeon says nothing. He changes out of the jacket he put on first into the sweater. He throws over the other jacket and again, wordlessly, walks over to Yifan and crashes against his chest.  
Yifan seems to know what Junmyeon wants as he embraces him back. Junmyeon allows himself the tears.  
After silently weeping into Yifan’s chest, Junmyeon pulls back and rubs his eyes. He says, “I wish I didn’t have to go.”   
Yifan cups his face, “I wish I could keep you here.”  
Junmyeon smiles, “Will I never see you again?”  
“Myeonie,” Yifan presses a piece of paper in Junmyeon’s hand, “Keep this. Save it on your phone under a fake name of course. When I get the other phone, I will text you first.”  
Junmyeon furrows his brows in confusion, “Other phone?”  
“Can’t trust technology. Also, I thought I was okay without you, but I am not, okay? So now, whatever the future brings, please know that I am not leaving you again.”  
Junmyeon’s face can’t decide between smiling or crying so it fixes in a grimace. Yifan rubs the space between his eyes and chuckles, “That is not attractive.”  
“I love you,” Junmyeon says in a choked whisper.  
Yifan kisses him on his forehead, “I love you.”  
Yifan’s lips kisses a trail from his forehead to his lips and stays there, lightly pressing. It is gentle and soft and tender and has none of the blind, heated passion of last night. But that doesn’t mean it has no emotions. Yifan pours in as much of the love he has for Junmyeon in one gesture. Yifan gently cradles Junmyeon’s head in his hands and Junmyeon sighs.  
All of a sudden Yifan’s phone rings, destroying their last moments together. Yifan breaks away with a huff and checks the device. He mutters, “It is the cab company. They are here.”  
“Oh,” Junmyeon’s grip on Yifan’s shirt gets tighter.  
They walk to the door together. Junmyeon not wanting to leave and Yifan not wanting to let Junmyeon go. However, it is Junmyeon who unlocks the door. It is also Junmyeon who rises on his toes and softly brushes his lips over Yifan’s. He whispers, “Tell me goodbye.”  
Yifan’s face scrunches up, and his lips quiver. He cups Junmyeon’s face and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He finally finds his tongue and says, his voice tight, “Goodbye Junmyeon.”  
“Goodbye Yifan.” Junmyeon doesn’t look back as he walks out and shuts the door behind him.

 

Junmyeon had cried on the entire taxi ride to his hotel. He almost paid the driver the wrong amount when he reached his destination.   
Now he walks down the lobby to his room. He puts in the key card and enters his room. The double bed room is filled with sunlight. He frowns. Sehun never ever wakes up early, at least not before ten. His confusion is cleared when Kyungsoo walks out of the bathroom, his hair wet and torso bare.  
Junmyeon says, “Kyungsoo?”  
“Sehun and Jongin were playing some stupid video game last night. I wanted to sleep, but they are so noisy, and then Chanyeol joined. You can imagine the commotion,” Kyungsoo says as he puts on a clean shirt.  
Junmyeon chuckles as he takes off his jacket, “I can.”  
“That is not your sweater,” Kyungsoo says, his voice laced with an emotion Junmyeon cannot detect.  
Junmyeon lies, “Oh, my aunt gave me a gift.”  
Kyungsoo just looks at him with his trademark cold glare. He rubs his hair with the towel for a couple of minutes before he remarks, “You never quite fit into his clothes anyway.”  
Junmyeon is stunned and dumbfounded. He says nothing as he watches Kyungsoo neatly place the wet towel over a chair. Kyungsoo continues, “Don’t worry, I convinced the managers and the other members are not that smart enough to figure it out. Though Minseok-hyung might have guessed at something. But you know he won’t say anything because his predicament is not that dissimilar to yours.”  
“H-how?” Junmyeon finally gasps out.  
“You are glowing hyung,” Kyungsoo wryly comments, “And I know he is here, in Toronto. I read in some newspaper about that NBA game thing.”  
“You don’t disapprove?” Junmyeon asks.  
Kyungsoo scowls, “Why would I? I know, I have seen you for the last couple of years. I know how good you got to act like nothing is wrong. If you can be happy, why would I disapprove? God hyung, you and Yifan-ge were like my relationship goals. And I am not going to lie, I solidly hated him after he left us, and you like that. But I knew deep down his reasons for leaving. And I suppose you knew too, right? I want you to be happy over all,” then he chuckles, “Plus, don’t you know I am a huge Krisho shipper?”  
Junmyeon laughs out loud at that. The tension dissipating. He says, his gratitude heartfelt, “Thank you Kyungsoo.”  
“Not a problem hyung,” Kyungsoo says as he walks to the door, “Let me go wake those three idiots up.”  
When Kyungsoo leaves him alone, Junmyeon sits down on the bed. He remembers the piece of paper Yifan gave him. He takes it out of his jacket and stares at the numbers scribbled on it. He saves it on his phone then proceeds to shred the paper to pieces. Better leave no evidence. He stares at the torn up pieces on the carpet and thinks.  
He doesn’t know what the future will bring. But he finds himself both dreading it and anticipating it. He doesn’t know where they will go from here. But he has assurance. Even if that assurance is built on quicksand, he will have it instead of the radio silence he had to endure for so long. He rather have this than nothing at all.  
He surprisingly finds himself not regretting a single thing he did last night. From stalking to staying with Yifan, he doesn’t regret it. He wonders how he can feel so light yet heavy at the same time. He wonders where he gets the hope from. He wonders a lot of things, but one thing he does not wonder about…  
Kim Junmyeon loves Wu Yifan and that is all.

**Author's Note:**

> I gave myself feels while writing wow. THE WORLD NEEDS MORE KRISHO LIKE HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW PERF AND PRECIOUS THEY ARE!!! Brb, crying.  
> I just love this OTP so much that I HAD to write about them!  
> k bye


End file.
